Possibilities
by R.W. plus me
Summary: My first post-Right Here story. Very fluffy.


_Author's Note: Hi everyone! I'm back! I know after the last chapter of Right Here, a lot of people asked if I could/would write a story about Hermione's pregnancy, and when they have Rose. I think the answer to that as of right now would be…no, just because I think I would fail miserably in describing the emotion and things that come with that. However, I _do_ think that I'll write some one-shots about the two after Right Here, just because I can't leave them alone! And here's my first one! It takes place five years after Right Here ended. Happy reading, and enjoy!_

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POSSIBILITIES -

It was a typical Saturday afternoon. Ron and Hermione were curled up in bed, Hermione with a book that she needed to read for work and Ron with a tediously long file he was supposed to be completing. In the last hour he had gotten as far as writing the perpetrators name and where the accident had taken place. After those questions – the first questions – the spaces for his writing were blank. The trouble was he kept on getting distracted by his not-very-easily-distracted wife, which was why Hermione was much further along in her progression than he was. Hermione glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and saw him staring at her, and the strip of bare back where her shirt had ridden up.

"Ron, concentrate," she said firmly, raising her eyebrows and giving him what was intended to be a stern look, but which just made him laugh. Really, this Saturday afternoon was a ritual for them: after waking up and having breakfast, they would return to bed with their work, which would start off well-intended, but would end in wholly un-work-related events. In the five years that they had been married nothing had changed; they still fooled around as they had when they were first together, when they were still teenagers. And although Hermione never voiced it, she loved it.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm trying. But it's so bloody hard to concentrate when you're right next to me, biting you lip and taking notes in your book."

Hermione smiled, kissing him softly on the lips. "You need to get that done, though," she said into him, breathing in his wonderful scent. "We're going to your parents' for lunch tomorrow, and you won't have time," she reminded him, but it was no use; Ron was already gently removing her shirt, and her hands were under his.

"This is a bad idea," Hermione feebly protested – as she always did – as Ron carefully rolled her over, gently taking her hand off the book and putting it on the night table.

"No, it's a _very_ good idea," Ron said, pulling his own shirt off of his head and throwing it off the bed, where it fell in a messy pile. He kissed her neck and all thoughts of telling him that he shouldn't toss his clothes all over the floor left her mind. In fact, for a while, everything left her mind.

After, they made their way into the kitchen to make lunch, Hermione clad in the sheet from their bed and Ron in nothing at all. She sat on the counter as Ron cut bread, Hermione watching carefully. She was absolutely convinced that one day he was going to cut off his finger; a fear that Ron knew, and found funny to tease her about.

"Ow!" he cried, holding his finger up and dropping the knife on the counter.

Hermione jumped, her eyes wide and her back straight. "What?" she asked sharply as Ron held his pointer finger in his hand and bit his lip. "I cut myself," he winced.

Hermione grabbed his hand, dragging it to her face to see it, and all five of his uncut fingers. She looked up at his face, where a grin was spreading across it. "You…" she said threateningly, taking a piece of bread he had cut and throwing it at him. He ducked, and it landed on the floor at his feet.

"Hey!" he said. "It took me a long time to cut that! The edges are straight and everything!" he said exasperatedly, picking up the bread and throwing it at her. She ducked as well and it landed in the sink, then took a piece of ham from the counter and threw that at him. His mouth was open from laughing, and the piece of ham stuck to the corner of his mouth. Hermione was bent double from laughing.

"I take it back," Ron said, surprised. "You should definitely join my Quidditch team; you have great aim." He put the rest of the piece in his mouth, and then took another piece, putting it into her mouth.

He leaned against her legs, his elbows on the counter, one on either side of her legs as they fed each other what were supposed to be the contents of their sandwiches. They were quite content, the two of them, until there was a knock on the door. They both jumped, startled at the intrusion of their intimacy. Ron raised his eyebrows and Hermione hopped off the counter, wrapping the sheet around her more carefully. She padded to the door and looked through the peephole, where a familiar mop of black hair was on the other side, shifting from side to side in the cold. Hermione opened the door and Harry stumbled in, his cheeks red from the cold and his eyes glassy.

"Oh, hello," he said, taking in Hermione's messy hair and bare shoulders. Hermione shivered, a gust of cold December air had come in with Harry, even though she had shut the door quickly behind him.

"Hi," she said unabashedly; ever since she and Ron had gotten married and Ginny and Harry a year after them, they had the silent agreement that they would no longer become embarrassed by the other pair; all four were quite aware of everything, despite the uncomfortableness of the situation. And although Ron occasionally broke this rule, they had for the most part stuck to the guidelines.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" she asked, for the kettle was whistling from the kitchen. She wondered why Ron hadn't gotten it. She moved away from the door; she could still feel the draft.

"Sure, that'd be great, but I can't stay for long, I actually have a favor to ask you and Ron," he said, running his hand through his hair and unzipping his jacket.

They walked into the kitchen as Ron was walking out of the bedroom and Hermione realized why he hadn't gotten the kettle; he had put on his boxers. He turned red as he saw Harry, and they exchanged awkward smiles.

Harry shook his head and laughed wryly. Taking in the two outfits his grin turned wider. "Alright for some, yeah?" he asked under his breath. Hermione hurried into the kitchen to get the kettle and pour the tea before all of the water boiled out.

"So, what's up?" she asked, sitting down on a kitchen chair and handing Harry his teacup. She waited as Harry took a sip, closing his eyes as if the warm liquid was giving him strength.

Harry opened his eyes. "I was wondering if you two could possibly babysit Teddy tonight? Ginny and I were supposed to do it, but she's ill and we don't want Teddy to get sick," Harry explained.

"Ginny's ill?" Hermione asked concernedly, her eyes wide. "Is she alright?" Ron poked his head from around the door, a shirt halfway on his body.

"She's okay," Harry told them both. "Just nauseous and a bit tired. There's been something going around her team for weeks, and it looks like she finally caught it. She'll probably be better by tomorrow, but we don't want Teddy to get sick," he explained.

Hermione nodded emphatically. "Of course we'll babysit," she said earnestly. She loved Teddy and she and Ron had babysat him on several occasions. Ron was still one of Teddy's favorite people, just as he had been when Teddy was a baby.

Harry looked visibly relieved. "Thanks so much," he said, looking happily at the two of them. "I can bring him round at about six, is that okay?" he asked. Hermione nodded again. Harry grinned wider then drained the contents of his teacup and looked at his watch, leaping up.

"I told Ginny I'd be gone five minutes, I should probably get back," he said, and with a wave at the two of them, he turned on the spot and disapparated.

As promised, Harry and Teddy came through the fireplace at six o' clock, which had given Hermione the chance to put protective charms around every breakable object in the house. Teddy had developed the combination of his father's adventure and his mother's clumsiness, which was quite a combination indeed. It was a rare night if he did not break at last one thing in the house, so Hermione had taken extra precaution. There were cushioning charms on the tables and chairs as well; not only did Teddy knock things down, but he occasionally knocked things over and on top of himself in the process.

"How's Ginny feeling?" Hermione asked Harry over the top of Teddy's head as she gave him a hug. Teddy untangled himself from her and ran to Ron, who gave him a big grin. Hermione watched as the six-year-old's hair turned a flaming shade of red.

"She's a bit better," Harry replied. "I've been looking after her, trying to give her some soup and things like that. Mostly she just wants to sleep, so I'm letting her. And the flat will be nice and quiet tonight, so she should be even better by the morning," he said.

Hermione nodded. "Well, I won't keep you, go back to Ginny. Are you going to pick Teddy up or do you want us to bring him back?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder to see if Teddy had gotten himself into any trouble yet. Ron and Teddy were sprawled on the floor, the chess set in between them. Ron was determined to make Teddy a chess pro by the time he went off to Hogwarts.

Harry shook his head. "I can come get him, no problem. I'll come back at about eleven, is that okay?" he asked, and Hermione nodded. Harry gave her another fleeting grin before grabbing a handful of Floo powder and disappearing into the green flames.

Hermione turned to the two on the floor. She smiled, watching their bent heads and Ron pointed out moves that Teddy could make. We watched how patient he was, how softly he spoke, how…natural he was.

She always thought that she wouldn't have children until she was at least thirty. Before then seemed much too soon; she had things she wanted to accomplish, things she wanted to change. Having a baby wouldn't fit into her plans at the Ministry. She and Ron both worked, it wouldn't be practical to have a family now. But as she watched the two on the floor, the idea of practical simply escaped her mind. Watching the two of them on the floor erased every practical, well-thought excuse in her mind. What she was left with was a warm feeling in her heart, which grew and grew, filling her up.

After dinner, the three of them went into the living room. With her wand, Hermione moved the table against the wall so that there was more space.

"Can we play Quidditch?" Teddy asked excitedly, looked around at the empty space around him.

Ron looked expectantly at Hermione, who shook her head firmly. "No Quidditch in the house," she said, and both Teddy and Ron looked slightly disappointed.

"What about play Quidditch? Can I use a toy broomstick?" Teddy asked, jumping down excitedly. Hermione bit her lip, thinking hard. She didn't want to be _too_ strict; they were babysitting after all. Babysitters were supposed to be a bit more fun than your parents.

"Okay," she said slowly, and both Teddy and Ron looked delighted. Ron went and fetched Teddy's toy broom which they stashed with Ron's real broom for when Teddy came to visit. Teddy hopped on and the broom rose slightly; just enough for his toes to lift from the ground. Teddy squealed delightedly. He zoomed around the living room, and Hermione watched with bated breath, waiting for him to crash into things. Ron, on the other hand, had taken the role of Quidditch commentator, adopting a deep voice and holding an invisible microphone in front of his mouth.

"Aaaaaand Lupin takes the Quaffle aaaaaand he's soaring to the goal. He ducks from the Chaser. Soars over that Bludger. Ohhhh nearly hit by that one! Gooood bit of flying there by Lupin! Aaaand he's almost there! Almost there! Aaand he Scores! Ten points for Gryffindor!" Ron shouted, jumping up and down as Teddy giggled uncontrollably, looping around their heads and fake-diving. Hermione gave Ron a searching look.

"Gryffindor?" she asked, quietly so that Teddy couldn't hear. Ron looked back at her.

"'Course. He has to be in Gryffindor!" Ron said, giving her a look as if she had asked the most obvious question in the world.

"Uncle Ron, do the voice again!" Teddy cried, bringing their attention back to him. Ron scratched his head.

"You know Teddy, I'd do it again, but there's one tiny problem."

"What is it?" Teddy asked, coming to a stop in front of where Ron and Hermione were sitting on the couch.

"Don't you need a ball to use to score?" Ron asked, and Teddy's eyes widened. Hermione smiled. If she was going to let Teddy fly in the house, she might as well go whole hog.

"Of course you do!" she said, moving her wand in a complicated twirl, and gold bubbles erupted from it. Teddy started laughing again, racing around and catching the bubbles, dodging around them. Ron started up his commentator voice again as Hermione sent more and more bubbles out of her wand.

As they sat on the couch together, Ron shouting Quidditch scores and Hermione shot golden bubbles out of her wand. And the warm feeling returned to her chest again. She watched as the red-headed little boy zoomed around their living room and she thought that maybe she could do this. She was only twenty five, but thirty seemed like a long way away. Maybe she didn't have to follow her plans, like she always did.

By nine o' clock, Teddy was visibly tired. He was slumped on his broom slightly, his eyes a bit heavy. Hermione asked him several times if he'd like to come down and put on his pajamas, but he refused every time. Finally, he hopped off of the broom and came to sit on the couch between Ron and Hermione, snuggling in between them and rubbing his eyes.

"Will you read me a story?" he asked Hermione and she nodded, getting off of the couch to the bookshelf. She bent down to the last shelf, where they kept Teddy's books.

"Which one do you want me to read to you?" she asked, but she already knew the answer. He asked for the same one every time he came over.

"Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump!" he cried, and Hermione smiled, her hand was already on that book. It was Ron's favorite as a kid, and ever since Mrs. Weasley had let that slip at dinner once, it had become Teddy's favorite book as well.

Teddy fell asleep halfway through the book, his head on Ron's shoulder. Ron let him down gently and Hermione covered him with a blanket. Ron dimmed the lights with his wand and they tiptoed out, back to their bedroom where they could make noise without waking him up. They never did anything when they babysat Teddy; Hermione was very responsible and they both didn't want Teddy to wake up and find them. So, they sat on the bed and talking, sitting a good distance away from each other and sitting on their hands.

Harry came at ten past eleven, through the fireplace in the bedroom. Hermione led him to the sleeping Teddy, whose hair had not yet turned back to its shade of light brown. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all smiled when they saw him.

"How's Ginny feeling?" Hermione asked in a whisper as Harry picked up Teddy and put him over his shoulder.

"She's a little better. She's sleeping now, but she was sick all night. Thanks for taking Teddy, we really needed the quiet," he said, grinning.

"No problem, any time," Hermione said, and Ron nodded from beside her. Harry hoisted Teddy up a bit better, then, making sure Teddy was secure, he turned on the spot an vanished, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in the darkened living room. Hermione went to the sofa and folded the blanket she had placed over Teddy. When she turned around, Ron had a strange expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" she asked, giving him a searching look. She walked across the living room, bringing the table that she had put against the wall back where it belonged.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I was just….I was just thinking," Ron said slowly. "We could do this….all the time," he said, in that same slow, thoughtful voice. Hermione froze where she was, giving him another searching look.

"What do you mean?" she asked softly. She thought she probably knew exactly what he meant, but she wanted to be exactly sure. She wondered if that warm feeling that hadn't left her heart ever since she had seen Ron and Teddy on the floor together had latched itself to Ron's chest as well.

"You know," Ron motioned to the space where Teddy had played Quidditch a few hours earlier. "Kids…and stuff," he said, looking up carefully at her.

Hermione smiled, the warm feeling in her chest burning right through her. Her heart was pounding uncontrollably, her eyes never straying from Ron.

"I was thinking that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I've always thought…with work and everything…" she drifted off, waiting for Ron to pick up where her sentence had finished.

Ron nodded vaguely. "I know. But tonight, with all of us….Well, work didn't seem to matter as much as I thought it did."

Hermione smiled, wrapping her arms around Ron's torso and resting the side of her face on his chest. "I know," she said. She tilted her face up to look at him. "Do you think we could do it?" she asked, and she really meant it. She wondered what she and Ron would be like as parents.

Ron kissed the tip of her nose. "I think we'd be bloody good at it," he said, grinning down at her. Hermione smiled. They _would_ be good at it. She would teach their children to love books and reading, and Ron would teach them how to play chess, and commentate as they zoomed around the living room on toy broomsticks. They would be very good at it.

"So," Ron said, looking down expectantly at her. Hermione smiled softly and blushed. She took a step back from Ron and looked at him in the half-light. She reached out and took his hand in hers.

"Well," she said, taking his hand a bit tighter in hers. "Come on, then," she said, and she led him into the bedroom.

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_Author's Note: That's as close as I'll get to Ron and Hermione having kids, I think. I hope you all enjoyed that…stay tuned for more stories; I'm working on another one _:)

_Please review!_


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